


hold my hand, my heart

by Ink_On_Parchment



Series: fictober 19 [3]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Lots of mentions of Beacon for him to not actually be in this fic, Mentions of Character Death, moving forward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 04:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20886467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ink_On_Parchment/pseuds/Ink_On_Parchment
Summary: Beacon was his blade, the only sword he’d ever owned. He’s using one of Minerva’s swords, and even if it is bigger than he’s used to that isn’t enough to account for the cold, slimy feeling that settles through him. He's used to fighting with a sword, but more than that he's used to fighting with Beacon.But Beacon is gone.It all seems a bit more complicated than that.





	hold my hand, my heart

**Author's Note:**

> For the fictober prompt: "Change can be annoyingly difficult." and also heavily inspired by the prompt "Chosen Weapon".

They start training together, after he gives in and Skype calls Sara and Leo for the first time. Because that first Skype call turns into one two weeks later and then another one two weeks after that and then eventually, they’ve got a scheduled meeting time every week. He swore he was leaving this Chosen One business behind him, but their chat name is “I Choose You” and he smiles every time he opens it up, so what can he say.

He resisted the training, at first. It was a combination of exhaustion from the new job in Brazil, lingering want to leave the Destiny business in the past, and just general apprehension about if he begins again monsters are going to pop out of the wood work, but it doesn’t last long. Mostly because he still finds Minerva in dark, quiet corners meditating for long, calm minutes. And he knows Minerva begins her day by running and ends it with stretches and exercises he knows are sword forms not from this planet. He knows, if he were to ask, Leo still runs. He’s sure Sarah has some habit that is left over from her time as a Chosen One.

He still reaches for a sword belt that will never, ever be there. 

He also knows that, as much as he doesn’t miss running for his life, he misses the _right _feeling that slotted into his bones when he and Minerva train and fight together like he would miss air if he didn’t have it.

They start out easy, stretching, running, and then it’s grappling and that’s _fun._ Minerva’s got a foot and a century of knowledge on Duck but he’s just as tough and they’re both _fast_, not to mention the fact that they’ve spent the last two decades in each other’s heads.

It’s when they move towards sparring that things take a turn for the worst. Minerva has her blade, the huge, two handed thing she’s fought with since she could hold it, but Duck has only ever had one sword. Beacon was given to him at 18, and even when he didn’t want him, Beacon was _his. _Beacon was his blade, the only sword he’d ever owned. He’s using one of Minerva’s swords, and even if it is bigger than he’s used to that isn’t enough to account for the cold sense of _wrong _that settles through him. He’d fought with other things before; self-defense training as a ranger taught him how to use his body to his advantage and he lived in Appalachia, he’s family had owned guns since he’d been born. But he fought with a sword, and more than that, he fought with Beacon.

And Beacon was gone.

He stops, raising his face to look up at Minerva in the dusk light that they’re sparing in. He’s breathing heavily all of a sudden, and there’s a cold sweat on his neck that’s in direct odds with the way his skin feels too hot for his body.

Beacon was gone.

When he focuses enough to really see Minerva, her sword is already in its sheath at her hip, and her face is open and concerned. She has moved closer to him, into his personal space, in the split second it took him to regain composure.

“What is wrong, Wayne Newton?” she asks, bright blue eyes fixed on his face. He has no idea what she sees there.

He thinks about lying. He has no idea if he can even articulate what exactly is wrong. He doesn’t miss Beacon, not really, but obviously he does and explaining that seems too derivative of all the things welling up in him. But then he thinks of lying, thinks of the waterfall of words waiting to push their way from his mouth, and the fact that she knows him better than anyone else on this planet and probably any others. It’s not like it would do him any good.

He steps closer to her, reaches out and takes her hand. She lets him, squeezes way too hard and then gentles immediately, the flash of guilt on her face immediate before it smooths into giving him her full concentration. It’s as flattering as it is intimidating, having all that single-minded attention focusing solely on him. With other people he can get away with only having half their attention. He’s never had anything less than her full focus.

“The uhhh, the short story?” He says, and he shifts under the weight of her gaze. “I miss Beacon. But that’s not all of it. I don’t really miss Beacon. Beacon was a dick. He was snarky and generally a bastard and Reconciliation can have him. But, he was my sword. He was the only sword I’ve ever fought with and I don’t know if I ever want to fight with another one.”

He breathes, glances back up to look at her face. She’s still looking at him like he’s the most interesting thing on the planet, and that gives him strength like nothing else ever has.

“And I lost him, there at the end. And he’s gone, which means that Aubrey is gone, and Thacker is gone. And Ned, Ned is dead. Ned’s been dead for, for months, ‘Nerva, and I don’t even…. Even if Aubrey and Thacker and Dani come back, Ned can’t. I don’t know, hon, it just feels weird to be moving forward when everyone else is gone.”

She squeezes his hand, perfectly gentle this time, and then clasps both her large hands around his one smaller one. She looks down at their hands, her larger, darker hands completely encompassing his. When she lets out a breath, it’s heavy and loud in the silence his words have left behind. “Your life has changed and changed even more recently, more than you could have ever expected. You have met people and forged bonds and lost loved ones. You’re not the same person you were when I met you, but then I am not the same person I was either. We both spent many years fighting, Wayne Newton, most of that time was spent fighting for our lives. And now we are here, spending our time rebuilding life, rebuilding this forest for this world. That change was a big enough shock to your system, but now, when you fight, it is for training, and it is not even with the weapon you have had since a teen. Change, I have learned, can be annoyingly difficult, but that does not mean it is not worth it. I enjoy sparring with you, and I believe you enjoy it also. Do not let the difficult memories take the joy from you.”

She looked back up at him, smiled the brilliant smile that had and always would knock him flat off his feet, and laughed a little.

“We will find you a new sword, one that actually likes you. And one day, we will see our friends again.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea of them retiring together and being in love.
> 
> Anyway. Thanks for reading!!


End file.
